


Walking into Hell's Gate

by Rayoislife



Series: Tell Me You Love Me [1]
Category: Original Work
Genre: Absent!Scott, Broken!Jordan, Flashbacks, Guilty!Tell, Hints of Rape, M/M, PTSD, brief mention of abuse
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-04-29
Updated: 2017-04-28
Packaged: 2018-10-25 03:58:10
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 3
Words: 2,998
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10756239
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Rayoislife/pseuds/Rayoislife
Summary: To think something so small could snowball into something so huge...





	1. Chapter 1

An act so simple shouldn't have caused such a big mess. Something so miniscule shouldn't have caused this catastrophe, but it did. A knife, a butter knife that had just been cleaned in the dishwasher hit the floor with a clatter. 

It wasn't an earth-shattering noise, it barely sounded at all, but in the still-ness, it sounded even louder.

Jordan shouldn't have been left at home alone, even though the flashbacks had become less frequent in the last months, he should have never been left in the house alone. 

The knife hit the ground and Jordan froze. His body quivered and he suddenly wasn't home anymore. Home wasn't there and he had never really been there, had he? He'd always been in his cell, in his cot, with Kenneth looming over him with his sour breath and beady eyes glinting. 

"Well, well, look who's awake, fellas." A chortle above him and Jordan's eyes widened and his breath quickened as panic spread through his body. "Morning there, sleeping beauty." 

There was laughter around Jordan and tears filled his eyes. "No, no, no," but his voice was hoarse like he'd been screaming all night, which meant he had. "No, no, no. No, please, no!" 

\---

Tell arrived at Jordan and Scott's house at 12:30 PM on a Thursday. He knew Scott was at work so he and Jordan would be alone and he could surprise him with a date for a change. He smiled as he walked up to the door and knocked. 

He waited a few minutes before knocking again, frowning when no one came to open the door. He had to wonder if Jordan had fallen asleep upstairs or something. Then there was a bang from inside the house, a loud noise of something falling and a yell that he recognized as Jordan's. "Jordan!" He called through the door, banging on it. "Are you okay? Open up!" 

Tell jiggled the handle and banged on the door a few more times, but to no avail. Cursing to himself, he started looking around for a spare key. He shoved things around and finally managed to find it hidden in the letter box. He opened up the door and looked inside the living room, his blue eyes taking in the damage of the house. Things were overturned, a few of the pictures on the walls had fallen, the frames shattered into pieces. A lamp was overturned and from the glass of the light bulb, a trail of bloody footprints went to the kitchen. 

Barely closing the door behind himself, Tell followed the trail into the kitchen, gasping at the sight of Jordan curled up in a ball, wedged between the refrigerator and broom closet, whimpering under his breath and pleading, his eyes wild. "Jordan?" He questioned softly, tears filling his eyes as he looked at the shrunken form of his boyfriend, the broken and bleeding form of Jordan. 

The brunette whimpered, but didn't look at Tell, didn't open his eyes, didn't move. 

The dam of memories had broken and they were in charge now.  
\----

The first night, Tell had had to comfort Scott, who blamed himself for his son's insanity. But Tell was the guilty one and he knew it. 

Jordan had gone to prison for him, had nearly killed for him, and was now insane because of him. He had to take care of him, had to take responsibility for what he'd done. Even as Scott ran away from it every night, hardly came home, and when he was home, he never once looked at his son. 

Tell walked into Scott's house like he owned it and peered around catiously, poking his ginger head around to spot the curled form of Jordan, as had become custom. Smelling food, though, he abandoned caution and stepped inside. He walked into the kitchen and was shocked to see Jordan standing at the stove, cooking what smelled like bacon. Slowly, the brunette turned and gave a small start seeing Tell there, but met his eyes, his brown eyes clear for the first time and showing no signs of being far off. 

"Hey, I didn't hear you come in." Jordan blinked in confusion at Tell. "Did you use the key? You could have just knocked." He laughed slightly and turned back to the bacon in the pan. "I was hungry and we had bacon so I thought I would give it a whirl." 

Tell was still in shock, his mouth opened and closed a few times soundlessly. Just yesterday Jordan had been screaming and curled in a ball, tucked away between the fridge and the broom closet. 

"Awfully quiet today," Jordan was saying, turning off the stove. He removed the pan and slid the bacon onto a plate. "Bacon?" He offered, picking up the plate and offering it up to the much taller male. 

That was the first time Tell realized Jordan had some good days still in him. It didn't happen often, but it did happen enough for Tell to know that Jordan wasn't completely gone. While he'd told Scott of the good news, Jordan's father refused to look at his son, the only son he'd had and the only one he'd ever have, he'd failed him in his eyes and Scott wouldn't listen otherwise.

And really, Jordan's good days were more like good hours. He'd be up and walking around, talking and joking for a while, then something small would happen, like the knife, and he'd return to the small spot between the broom closet and the fridge for the remainder of the day. Still, it gave Tell some hope that one day, Jordan would come back to him completely. So, he took the days in stride as they came and stuck by Jordan, just like he'd promised.

Even if Tell had to watch again and again as Jordan danced on the edge between Hell's Gate and reality. He'd never leave Jordan again.


	2. Another Crack in the Wall

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It hurts a little more every time he has to do this, but it is starting to hurt less.

"Oh." 

It's a soft sound, barely there, and if Tell hadn't been unnerved by the sudden silence in the house, he wouldn't have caught it at all. Things had been noisy, messy, and downright depressing for a long time so the silence had come as a shock since there had been no screams for over an hour now. The redhead turned to the man in his company, almost scared to see what damage had been done this time. "Hi," the taller man tried for a smile, but he just couldn't muster anything other than a slightly convincing half-smile. 

"When..." The question dies in Jordan's throat as he steps fully into the room and looks around before he notices the suitcases on the bed. After that, his eyes travel to the small desk that the ginger had crammed himself into to write in what seemed to be a journal. Brown eyes clouded with confusion find blue. 

"Uh," Tell slowly began to stand from his seat and closed his journal up, pushing the glasses he was wearing back up on his nose. It takes him a moment to realize just how awkward this is. He'd never thought he'd be trying to explain himself to his boyfriend. 

"Spare key?" Jordan asked after a moment of awkwardly searching for his lost question and trying to find his voice that seems to be really irritated at the moment. Maybe it's allergies. At the nod he receives, Jordan returns one. "Okay." It's still mostly a question, but the other man just can't seem to find the words. "Dad?" 

Tell's throat clenched up a little at that question. He gave a semi-shrug and an apologetic glance down to his shoes. After a moment, he took in a breath and cleared his throat. "Yeah, he, uh..." How was he supposed to explain it? Scott once again abandoned his child to save himself. Or maybe to drown himself this time. 

"Right. I get it." Only that he doesn't. Tell knows that. Jordan doesn't know when things are good that he's been breaking bit by bit. He doesn't see the difference or non-difference between reality and fantasy anymore. He just lives day in and day out. The way that Tell had become adjusted to living recently. 

"No, Jordan. It's not like that." Because Tell doesn't want him to resent his dad again. Not after they spent so long getting to know one another again and seal the gap between them. It's because Tell can't blame him for running this time, too. Tell would rather run than have to listen to the broken screams or even worse, deal with days like today where Jordan is alert and there. It hurts and it's hard. But Tell's responsible and he knows. That's why he stays. If Jordan hadn't seen him in the hospital or if he hadn't told Jordan who it had been that put him in the hospital, the other boy wouldn't have ended up in jail. He wouldn't be traumatized or fighting with reality on a daily basis. It wouldn't be this way if not for the tall ginger. 

Jordan just shrugged and started to walk away. "Yeah, classic Scott Glory, you know. Come in and be fine, then run again when the opportunity strikes. I get it. I do." He's angry and Tell understands that, but he also knows that Jordan is hurt more than anything. 

"I told you that it's not like that," Tell said as he followed after his boyfriend into the kitchen. Good, it had been two and a half days since the other male had eaten. Food would do him good. "He just doesn't know what to do about you." It's gentle and a little airy, but Jordan hears it and Tell knows that because he can see the way Jordan's muscles are coiling beneath his shirt, tensing in his back. 

"And what is that supposed to mean?" Gruff and dry, not only from the screaming, but the emotions hidden not so well on the surface. 

"Your flashbacks." 

An intake of breath. "What about them?" 

"Jordan...please, you've got to have noticed how hungry you are. How much your throat hurts. Something about your appearance. They've pretty much taken over." Tell swallows as he waits for a response. It's different every time the other male hears it. This time, it's a laugh. 

" _Pretty much taken over_?" The brunette starts to make himself a sandwich. "I think I'd notice if they did." 

"But you wouldn't. They...they..." Tell's throat got tight again. "Jordan, you spend hours screaming and crying and begging..."

" _I'm not crazy_!" The smaller male yelled out at his taller boyfriend, glaring at him with intense anger in his eyes. 

"I--I never said you were." Jordan's not crazy. Just broken. A little damaged and tarnished, but not crazy. 

Hesitation and a sigh. "Jus--just go, alright?" Jordan ran a hand through his hair in exasperation. "I'll talk to you later, I just can't handle this right now." 

At least he stopped this time. At least he didn't try to fight Tell or call a loony bin on his own or even track down his father. Tell's been through all of these scenarios before. Today was still a good day. "Okay. I'll go." The redhead paused before planting a kiss to Jordan's head. He grabbed his keys after and headed around town because the term _day_ was loose when it came to Jordan. He had more good hours left in him than he did complete days. That was okay because Tell would still be there for all of them. Every single one. 

He'd thought about calling around to clinics or home health care places, but those were expensive even with insurance and Jordan wasn't a complete vegetable yet. He still yelled and cried and begged. He still got up every few days for a couple of hours and got food or whatever he needed. He wasn't gone yet. He was just teetering on the edge, patching holes and making new ones along the way. Jordan didn't need to be sent away yet. There was still a small wall in his mind; it just had a few cracks in it.


	3. Through Hoops, Through Hell

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Maybe the one who is broken isn't the one who truly is broken.

It takes a moment for the words to really register. You heave a sigh when it does and it takes everything for you to not yell at him. You've been through this before. Of course, he doesn't remember. 

"Tell," he was waiting on a response and you didn't give one. "You've--"

"No." You cut him off before he can say anything more. It's cowardly, but you don't want to go over this again. 

"Tell, please." And he's begging, with his eyes, and his voice. He's begging with everything he has. He wants this and you know it. But still you deny him. You can't do that to him. If he could, you know he'd do it himself. 

"Jordan, no." You turn away so you don't have to look at him and you head for the kitchen, rubbing at your temples. It won't help with the logic that's beating you down or get rid of the picture Jordan makes these days. He's skinnier than when he came back from prison, days of going without food and water, and his hair has grown out some. He needs to shave and you can't remember the last time he changed clothes, much less washed them. 

"Tell, you've done enough," he rushes out before you can whirl around to stop him. You don't even know how you'd begin to stop him anyways. Now, you can't because he's got words pouring out of his mouth before you can protest again. "I know," and that tone of voice grates on your nerves. It's the one that makes it sound like he's talking to the damaged one. Maybe he is. He's damaged in the mind, but haven't you been damaged by him? You're too upset to even think on saying anything further. "You've done enough. You've been here. You've done more than my own biological father could. I know you feel responsible because of what happened when we were seventeen." So effortlessly, he drags that from nothing and it makes a vein tick on your neck in a nervous manner because you're not sure how that makes you feel. Him knowing that, but he's had plenty of time to pick up on that, hasn't he?

"But we were seventeen, Tell. I was responsible for what happened, not you. I got myself landed where I did. I didn't have to go after the Mallorys. That was my fault. It's my fault that I'm..." He bites his lip, you know because at some point, you turned to face him. "Look, I'm just a burden now. You can't just stay with me forever. You have a job. Hell, you had a life without me for eight years, Tell. You can have one again. A better one." His eyes get big and he's begging again. "Please, you can't help me more than you already have. Doctors..."

"Doctors won't do anything," You interject quietly and shake your head. 

"They might, you don't know." 

You brush past him to get to the stairs and he follows behind you. You're only leaving because you're waiting for the time that his memories take over and he forgets again. Until next time. It's cowardly and worse than something Scott would do, but it's what you've done every other time he's brought this up. 

"Tell...please. I am begging you." 

"No, Jordan." You just sound tired to yourself. You are tired. Tired of these fights. Tired of the screaming and crying and terrified of what may happen. You shake yourself from those thoughts and berate yourself for even thinking that you might leave him in a place like _that_. 

"Do you still love me?" 

You stop on the stairs, he's still at the bottom, talking up to you. You turn to him. "What?" Because how could he ask if you still did? Of course you did.

"Do you still love me, Tell?" He's blinking at you and his eyes are serious, there's no true expression on his face. 

"Of course I do. Why would you ever-"

"Say it. Tell me." 

Your eyebrows furrow because this is all off topic and you start walking back down to be face to face with him, or as close as you can get with the height difference. "Jordan..."

"Tell me you love me."

"I love you," and it sounds more like a question because this is different. 

"How can you tell me that when you let me suffer every day?"

"What?" So confused. You're so confused.

"How can you say you love me when you let me suffer like this every day? That's not love, Tell. This isn't loving me. This is...this is torture." Jordan has that begging look on his face again. He's not letting this drop it seems. "If you truly love me..."

Jordan changed your mind with that. That was the end of it all. It's embarrassing to say that you got teary-eyed when you went with him to be admitted, but then it makes sense, too. Jordan just stood there and squeezed your hand a few times. He didn't look broken then. Just calm, steady, and almost peaceful. The only thing he said afterwards was: "Promise me that you'll go back to living life now." 

And you did. You didn't forget Jordan, no one could forget Jordan, but you got a life and occasionally, you'd find yourself wondering and you'd go to the journal you kept during the time you were with him. But after that day, you'd promised to live life and the way he said it said you needed to forget him, too, so you didn't visit. You pretended it didn't make you feel guilty not to go visit or when you'd read through your journal and hit a good day that was actually a day. But you got a life and you lived. You never forgot though. You'd never forget.


End file.
